Polar Magnetism
by Charlie Winchester
Summary: OC story. "Mac, I got some kid here named Meghan claiming to be your niece, in for assaulting a police officer." Chapter Ten, FINALLY.
1. One of Those Days & Cop Meets Delinquent

**Author's Note: Hey all! This may look familiar to some of you, so I'll explain. I've tried posting this once before, but back then I had only finished about five chapters, and I got bored with it really quickly and decided to delete it. Now I'm just about done this story, so I'm gonna try again. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**And I put the prologue and first chapter together because a) the prologue was really short, and b) 99 percent of the time no one reviews prologues. **

**Thanks for your time! -- Charlie**

_Prologue: One of Those Days_

"Uh… sir?" Flack stifled a grin as he regarded his supervisor thoughtfully. "What happened to your nose?" He clamped his teeth down on his tongue to keep from laughing, and he smoothed his face into a solemn mask of concern.

"That- that _kid_- broke my nose," the older man ground out through gritted teeth. He glared fiercely at something behind the NYPD detective.

"Alright," Flack suggested, "why don't you go put ice on it, and I'll deal with the uh, kid."

"Fine," he snapped, and stalked in the other direction with one final glare over his shoulder.

Flack sighed. Oh... man. It was going to be one of those days…

_-_

_Chapter One: Cop Meets Delinquent_

Or, at least, that's what he thought… until he turned around. And gaped.

His keen blue gaze started at the floor and slowly lifted to meet the eyes of… a _girl? _

He started in surprise, eyes widening. Yup, she was a girl all right, and a clearly rebellious one at that. Incredible violet eyes stared back at him. He quickly skimmed over her appearance; she couldn't have been more than eighteen, tops. On her feet were black hiking boots, followed by a- very- short black skirt, complete with a black studded belt, and a black tube top that fell just above her pierced bellybutton, showing off her tanned and toned stomach. A dark denim jacket, alternating black and pink chunky bracelets, and a silver chain around her neck completed the ensemble. He lifted his gaze to her face once more. One nose ring, at least three earrings in each ear, and straight, jet-black hair that most girls would kill for; gorgeous violet eyes, pursed pink lips, and angrily flushed cheeks gave him the indication that she was, in fact, very pissed off.

She smirked at him as he yanked his gaze from her and let it slide to the officer beside her.

"Yo, Lilly." Flack called to get his attention as he walked over to them. "What's she doin' here?"

The black man shrugged. "I dunno. She demanded I take her to the Crime Lab."

Flack rolled his eyes. "Since when do you obey orders from a teenager with behavioural issues?" he asked incredulously, ignoring the cry of protest coming from the girl.

Lilly glared at him. "What was I supposed to do? I didn't want my nose broken, too."

The cry turned quickly to a snicker. Flack glared at her. "Shut up." He turned to Lilly. "Go. And next time, call for backup or something." The officer scurried away without a word.

Flack sighed. "All right, whaddya need to be here for? Shouldn't you be in some detention facility or something?" He raised a disdainful eyebrow at the girl, waiting impatiently for an answer.

"I want to see my uncle," she muttered in reply.

Flack pursed his lips. "Who's your uncle?"

"What do you care?" She shot back, arms crossed over her chest in a defiant stance.

He rolled his eyes. "Look, save it, a'right? I don't need to deal with your attitude on top of the list of things I already have to do today. Just gimme a name, and I'll dump you off with him, and _he _can baby-sit you for the rest of the day."

"For your _information_," she said sarcastically, "I'm nineteen. Don't treat me like I'm some punk kid. I'm not stupid. Gimme the damn community service and go save the world. I'm not gonna stick around here any longer than I need to."

"Name."

She snapped her gum. "Mac Taylor."

"You're Mac Taylor's niece?" Flack repeated, shocked.

She gave him a 'duh' look. "No, I know everyone that works here and that's the first name that came to mind. Of course I am."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "And your name is…"

She blew another bubble and popped it. "Meghan."

"Oh." It finally hit him that he should call Mac and verify her story. "Mac, I got some kid here named Meghan claiming to be your niece, in for assaulting a police officer." He listened for a moment. "Sure." He snapped his phone shut and swore under his breath. "Looks like I'm stuck with you for longer than I thought."

"Great," she murmured derisively, and plunked down on a nearby chair. "So who are you, anyway?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to reply 'none of your business', but he didn't feel like arguing with her, so he said simply, "Flack."

She snapped her gum once more, not bothering to comment.

"Humour me."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You look like you're barely out of high school. How'd ya manage to get arrested?"

She gave a flippant-shrug. "My friends left me to deal with moron over there," she tilted her head in the direction of the hall where Flack's supervisor had been standing minutes before, "and I got pissed. He needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. I shoved him."

"You broke his nose," Flack pointed out, hiding a smile. She was small, nearly a foot shorter than his six foot frame, but she was fierce. "Assaulting a police officer; that's not a good thing to do, you know."

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "Like you care."

"He's pretty strong."

"Yeah, and I know karate. Your point?"

He didn't know what to say to that, and was thankful when Mac appeared, a fairly angry look on his face. "Meghan Brielle Lindale."

"Hi, Uncle Mac." Meghan replied cheerfully. "Sorry to interrupt." She stood up. "I'm only here because-"

"Save it, Meg," Mac interrupted, and turned to Flack, who scrambled to his feet. "Explain."

The NYPD detective shrugged. "I got her from Lilly. He didn't quite know what to do with her."

Meghan glared at him. "I told you not to-"

He glared right back. "And I told you to shut up."

She snapped her mouth closed and folded her arms across her chest again, chewing her gum furiously.

Mac took this in with a hint of a smirk. "Where are your parents, Meghan?"

"Europe." She laughed. "They actually thought they could leave me here and I wouldn't get into any trouble."

"How can I get in touch with them?" Mac asked of his niece, ignoring her obvious amusement.

"You can't. They didn't take their cell. Some anniversary thing."

Mac sighed. "When are they coming back?"

"Three weeks."

He groaned. "You're in deep trouble, you know that?"

Meghan shrugged. "Whatever."

"Alright," Mac decided finally, "You can do your community service by working in here where I can keep an eye on you."

"Are you serious?" She asked disbelievingly, and Mac silenced her with one look.

Flack sighed. It was going to be a long three weeks.


	2. Assistant Coroner

_Chapter Two: Assistant Coroner_

Meghan flopped down next to Mac's desk with a sigh. "Is there anything to do around here? I'm bored out of my skull." She popped a bubble and stuck out her tongue. "I'm thinking about getting it pierced."

"Your skull?"

Meghan rolled her eyes at her uncle. "No, my tongue."

"If you'd change your outfit a little," Mac inclined his head at her, "you could work in the coroner's office with Hawkes."

Her face brightened. "Really?"

"I said if," her uncle reminded sternly. "Got it? And I'd have to check with him." He eyed her suspiciously. "You _did _graduate?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duh." Meghan had excelled in school, skipping more than one grade and graduating by the time she was fifteen. Before she hit her rebellion stage, she had enrolled in some classes at a medical school and finished by the time she was nineteen. After that, she quickly changed her mind and became involved with 'the wrong crowd'- in her parents' opinion. Meghan yawned. "So…?"

"Fine," Mac relented cautiously, "but you will abide by the rules, Meg."

Looking thrilled at the fact that he had used her nickname, the nineteen year old jumped up and headed for the door. "I'm gonna go check it out. Thanks, Uncle Mac."

"Meghan."

His voice stopped her in her tracks right in the doorway. "Yeah?"

He grinned. "Don't you dare."

She stuck out her tongue, teasing him. "Fine." She tossed him a grin over her shoulder and sashayed down the hall, ignoring the stares she got from people around her.

-

"Hello?" Meghan poked her head in the doorway of the morgue and saw an attractive black man with dark framed glasses bending over a body half-covered with a sheet.

He looked up. "Hi. You must be Mac's niece."

Her eyebrows rose. "Uh, yeah. Does everyone know?"

"Word gets around."

She shrugged and walked over to join him. "What happened to him?" Meghan made a face. "He looks like he's gone through a paper shredder."

The man laughed. "Not quite. I'm the coroner, Hawkes."

She smirked. "I know. Uncle Mac told me. Does he like, run this place?"

"No. Close, though." Hawkes stepped back. "COD?"

"Asphyxiation."

"What makes you say that?" Hawkes queried, even though he knew Meghan was correct.

Meghan shrugged. "Just a guess." She inspected the victim's face closely.

"With what?"

"A pillow," she responded without hesitation.

Hawkes started in surprise. "How do you know?" He didn't find a thing.

Meghan reached for a pairs of tweezers, and, at his conceding nod, pulled a tiny fibre from the victim's nose. "Feather."

The coroner reached for an evidence bag. "You wanna take it to trace?"

Her eyes opened slightly wider. "Me?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Thanks." Meghan watched as he bagged the fibre and handed it to her.

"Page me if you're right, I'll buy you coffee." At her stunned look, he gave her a grin. "I didn't find that."

She grinned back. "Okay." Somewhat flattered by the attention, she waved and slipped out the door to make her way to the trace lab. "Hey, Danny," she greeted, having met the CSI the day before, as well as his partner and girlfriend, Aiden.

"Hey." Danny lifted his head from the microscope he was peering into and shoved his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "What's up?" Meghan positioned herself on the stool next to him and waved the evidence bag.

"I need Chad to run this. Do you know where he is?"

"Bored to desperation playing solitaire on the computer," Danny answered with a smirk, tilting his head in the lab tech's general direction.

Meghan followed his gaze and laughed. Chad looked about to fall asleep. "Thanks," she said to the CSI. "Catch'ya later, Danny."

"See ya."

"Hey Chad, want something to do?" Meghan called to the lab tech, and laughed when he flew out of his chair.

"Yes, please!"


	3. Coffee Date, Well, Not Really A Date

**Author's Note- sorry for the wait; hope you're still with me. **

**-**

_Chapter Three: Coffee Date- Well, Not Really a Date…_

"Hey Hawkes, you owe me lunch!" Meghan yelled to the coroner, not bothering to say hello.

"I said coffee, not lunch!" Hawkes shot back smoothly, a smile toying at the corners of his mouth.

"Whatever." Meghan threw him a saucy grin and sat on the counter, watching him wash the blood from a gunshot wound from a different body than she had seen before. "Ask Chad if you don't believe me."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I believe you."

"GSW didn't kill him, huh?"

"Nope. Guess what did."

"Somethin' internal, 'cause I can't see anything else?" Meghan guessed. At his silence, she looked again and hopped off the counter. "Wait a sec…" she lifted one hand. "Poisoning?"

"Yup."

"Perp wanted to make sure he was dead, or what?" she joked.

"Beats me. That's for Aid to figure out. She's got the bullet," Hawkes replied, turning off the water and wiping his hands on a paper towel. "For now, _I _am on lunch break. Care to join me?"

"Uh, sure. Can I grab my stuff on the way?"

Hawkes nodded. "Yeah." He followed her out the door and down to Mac's office, where she grabbed her black leather jacket and purse and called out a haphazard "see ya later, Uncle Mac!"

He shook his head. What a girl.

"Alright," she exhaled, and yanked on her jacket. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but here."

/\/\

"Oh God, don't tell me you're a Pepsi fan," Meghan complained dramatically as she took a large bite of her cheeseburger.

Hawkes mock-glared at her and stole a fry from her plate. "What's wrong with Pepsi?"

Meghan rolled her eyes and made a show of drinking her Coke. "It's so _bland,_" she informed, making a face. She yawned and covered a fry in ketchup, then tossed it into her mouth.

"Like ketchup much?" he teased.

She grinned. "Can't live without it."

He shook his head. "You have the strangest eating habits."

"This coming from a walking encyclopedia" was her snappy response.

"Alright, alright, I give," he relented, "topic change now."

Meghan laughed. "Wimp."

"Brat."

"Know-it-all."

Hawkes opened his mouth, closed it, and stole another fry, drawing out a cry of protest from his companion. He shrugged. "You're not eating them," he pointed out.

"Yes I am."

"Sure. Did you go to medical school or what?" Hawkes asked.

"Yeah, I took a few courses. Did so well I got a degree. After I got out, I decided I didn't want to anymore, though."

"Why not?" Hawkes finished his Pepsi and set it down, regarding her thoughtfully.

She shook her head, jet-black hair swishing around her face. "I dunno, I guess after doing something that required so much thinking, I needed a break."

Meghan polished off the rest of her burger and shoved the plate of fries toward him.

His eyes twinkled. "You don't like thinking, huh?"

"Oh, shut it. I was barely nineteen." Meghan smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "What, were you a model student?"

"Not quite," he replied. "So, how old are you now?"

"Twenty in a week and two days."

"I'll put it on my calendar."

Her cheeks flushed. "Thanks."

"You ready to go back?" he asked, sensing her embarrassment. "Or do you want a milkshake?"

"Sounds good. My turn to pay."

"Hey now, that's not fair…"

"Too bad."


	4. Home Sweet Home

_Chapter Four: Home Sweet Home_

"I'm sorry about Claire."

Mac shot his niece a look but didn't comment for a full minute.

"Thanks."

"It's been what, three years?"

"About that." His expression told her to drop the subject, so she did.

"You really need to redecorate this place or something," Meghan remarked flippantly. "It's so bleak."

"I like my house just the way it is." Mac flipped on the light and speed-dialled a number on his cell.

"I shouldn't find it weird that you have Boston Pizza on your speed-dial?" Meghan teased.

"Oh, quiet," Mac shot back, hiding a smile. "I like my pizza."

/\/\

"Pay-per-view is God," Meghan proclaimed triumphantly as she plopped down on the couch beside her uncle. She snatched a slice of pizza from the box on the floor and devoured it hungrily. "Why do you bother with satellite anyway? I bet you haven't watched t.v. in years. Wouldn't you just get cable and not have to pay for movies you don't even watch?"

Mac rolled his eyes, not bothering to reply, and turned up the volume.

/\/\

After gleefully making her uncle suffer through 'What Women Want', Meghan yawned and voiced her desire to take a shower. Mac pointed her in the right direction and said, "Your stuff is in the hall."

And take a shower, Meghan did. A nice, long, hot one, to which Mac complained, "How am I ever going to get any hot water again?"

She grinned and hugged him. "I'm going to bed. Guest room?"

He nodded. "Goodnight, Meghan."

"Uncle Mac…"

"Yeah?"

"Can I use the phone for a while?"

"Long distance?"

"Uh-uh."

"Sure."

Meghan went to her room, crawled under the covers, and reached for the phone, dialling a number she remembered from lunch.

"Hey" was the greeting she received.

"Hey yourself," she teased. "Good evening?"

"Not too bad, you?"

"My uncle consented to a Mel Gibson movie," she laughed.

"Excuse me?"

Meghan snickered. "My uncle watched a Mel Gibson movie."

"Can I get that in writing?"

Meghan burst out laughing. "Very funny." She snuggled up to a pillow and twirled the phone cord between her fingers. "So…"

"So…?"

"Now I know why you don't talk very much!" she exclaimed. "Cause all you do all day is _work _with people that don't talk!"

Now it was Hawkes' turn to laugh. "If you say so. I talk a lot more than you think I do, Meghan."

She pursed her lips. "Really…"

"Really. I drive Mac up the wall because I'm constantly spouting facts at him about nothing important. Once, I heard he referred to me as a walking encyclopedia, just like you did."

"You are." Meghan smiled as she heard a breath of exasperation on the other end of the line. "It's true."

"Yes, so I've heard," he said, sounding mock-frustrated. "Sometimes I think I would be better off shutting up and working."

"No, don't do that," she assured him quickly, "I love listening to you talk. That's why I called you."

He grinned. "Thanks."

Meghan yawned. "I should go; I'm super tired."

"Okay. Goodnight, Meghan."

She groaned. "I hate my name."

"Deal with it. I like it."

"I'm too tired to argue. Goodnight."

"Bye."


	5. Oh No, You Again

_Chapter Five: Oh No, You Again_

"Oh no, you again" were Flack's first words upon seeing Meghan.

"Oh, shut it. This is my crime scene, too." Meghan shot back, squatting down next to the body of a young-looking victim, yanking out her kit and checking over the body. "Uncle Mac," she called, and the former Marine walked over to her for an assessment. "Okay; defense wounds on her hands and wrists, indicating she fought back hard," the nineteen-year-old informed him. "And… there's something under her nails; looks like shavings of some sort." She took a sample and handed the evidence bag to her uncle. "Based on liver temp, I'd say she's been dead about a day."

"No wonder no one found her. Not a lot of people walk through back alleys in the middle of the night."

Meghan shot Flack a look of barely concealed exasperation. "Ya think?" She rolled her violet eyes and rocked back and forth on her heels on the ground, glancing at her uncle. "She's a hooker."

"Who's a hooker?" Hawkes queried with a dry smile, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape and bending down next to the victim. "You done already?"

"Not me, yes I am, and where were you?"

"Swamped," Hawkes replied simply, and Meghan conversed quietly with him, both coroners oblivious to the wary expressions on the faces of Mac and the homicide detective.

Hawkes looked over Meghan's clipboard and nodded. "Good. Looks like you don't need me, after all." He raised an eyebrow at Flack, who had given up on them and was talking to a passer by on the sidewalk.

"I wouldn't say that," she grinned, and shook her head with disgust as she followed his gaze. "Oh no, you again," she mimicked in a near perfect impersonation of the homicide detective.

He laughed. "What?"

"_Oh no, you again_," Meghan quoted sarcastically. "Those were his first words as soon as he noticed me."

"Obviously he hasn't noticed you yet," Hawkes muttered under his breath, and grinned sheepishly at her when she gave him an incredulous look. "He's a jerk sometimes, don't pay him any attention."

She threw him a saucy grin. "Thanks."

/\/\

"Yo, Lindale!"

Meghan stopped. There was only one person that greeting could have come from, and that was- "Danny." She finished the last part of her thought out loud. "What's up?" She eyed him curiously as he skidded to an enthusiastic halt beside her and grinned.

"Me an' Aid are gonna go grab a bite to eat. Y'interested?"

When Meghan hesitated, Danny pressed on. "We're goin' to a new club after," he baited, waiting for her response. "We got tomorrow off."

"Alright, fine," she relented. "Just you guys?"

"Uh, yeah," Danny lied. "C'mon. Aiden's waitin' in the car."

"Whoa, hold it." Meghan held up her hands. "First of all, Uncle Mac would murder me if I ran off without telling him- at the risk of sounding like a teenager- and second, I look terrible. Can you drop me off at home and I can change? I'll take five minutes."

"No problem."

/\/\

"Okay, ready to go." Meghan slid into the passenger seat of Danny's car and tried to catch her breath.

"That was quick," he commented, and pulled out of the driveway. "Wow. Too bad ya don't have a date, 'cause you sure as hell would knock his socks off."

"I'll ignore the part of my brain that screams 'cheesy' and listen to the part that says 'compliment'. Thanks, Danny. Hey, are you sure I'm not intruding? 'Cause I don't want to be in the way…"

_Liar, liar, liar, liar… _A voice in Danny's head chanted, and he pushed it away. _It was Aid's idea, NOT mine. Got it?_

"Danny?"

"Hmm?" Danny jerked his cerulean gaze back to the road and his attention to Meghan. "No, you won't be in the way, promise."

"Alright," she said, but didn't look convinced.

/\/\

"I'll give ya ten bucks if you can find Aiden," Danny yelled above the noise as they entered the flashy, crowded nightclub.

"I thought we were gonna eat first," Meghan yelled back.

Danny motioned to a quieter spot and lowered his voice a little. "We're just gonna eat here, it's easier. That okay?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"Oh, I see her, Danny." Meghan tapped his arm to get his attention. "And she's with… oh, shit. Is it…" Danny winced as she trailed off and leaned forward to get a better look. "_Damn _it!"


	6. Talk About Awkward

**So... I don't like this chapter. The next one is better, promise. :)**

**-**

_Chapter Six: Talk About Awkward_

Meghan yanked her gaze from Aiden and the man she was fairly dragging behind her to Danny. "This had better not have been your idea," she threatened, "or you are seriously screwed, Messer. And I am not joking. What the _hell _is he doing here?"

"Ask Aiden" was all Danny stuttered.

Meghan gave Aiden a sweet smile as she approached; pulled her aside when she came to stand beside her, and hissed, "What is going _on_?"

"Oh, we towed him along with us," Aiden replied casually. "Is that a problem?" she fought to keep a straight face at the furious look on her friend's.

"Just don't expect me to talk, touch, interact in any way with, or even look at him." Meghan muttered, and stormed in the other direction. She was halfway across the club and ready for a beer when she ran smack into someone she didn't see. She groaned in frustration and lifted her head. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, I- Hawkes!"

He gave her a quirky grin. "Hi. Do you run into people all the time, or is that just a nighttime thing?"

"Only when I'm itching to get away from other people."

He glanced over the top of her head, quickly spotted who he thought she was 'itching to get away from', and gently took her arm. "C'mon. You hungry?"

She nodded. "I haven't eaten since lunch."

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to join them," he placed a finger on her lips at her cry of protest, "and you're going to act like nothing is wrong."

"Why?"

"Do you want to give him the benefit of the doubt?"

"_Hell _no."

Hawkes smiled. "Besides, you got me."

She breathed a sigh of relief and linked arms with him. "Thanks. You're a real friend."

"I know."

-

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny raised an eyebrow at his friend and let his gaze slide over to where Flack's lay. "What?"

"How can someone who's so hot be so damn annoying?"

Danny smirked at the bluntness of the question. "Uh… I dunno, why don't y'ask her?"

Aiden rolled her eyes.

Flack snorted. "Yeah, that helps."

"Helps what?" Aiden wanted to know, but he glared at her.

"Never mind," he sighed, and downed his beer.

-

Damn that skirt.

The _short_ skirt hung low on her hips, leaving nothing to the imagination and allowing him a perfect view of her long, tanned, beautiful legs.

Damn it.

And the _short _top that showed off her toned stomach and drew attention to the intricate ring in her bellybutton. Like most, it was a silver barbell, but at the bottom, three tiny chains dangled about half an inch down her skin.

He yanked his eyes from her stomach to her face, and thanked god she wasn't looking at him. Her hair swished around her face, and she whispered something in Hawkes' ear with a grin.

Damn her.

-

"Ride?"

"Yes."

Meghan slid into the passenger seat of Hawkes' car, relieved. "I'm so glad this evening is over."

"I know better than to ask why, don't I." It was said more of a statement than a question.

Meghan sighed. "You do."

"But…"

"You're still wondering, Hawkes."

Hawkes grinned at her. "Maybe if you'd try to be civil…"

"Forget it," she interrupted. Hawkes snapped his mouth shut.

Meghan's violet eyes flashed. "He just irritates the hell outta me. And you know what?" She was really getting into her element now. "He actually had the _nerve _to stare at me while we were dancing! Honestly! I cannot figure him out!"

Hawkes pursed his lips. _I'm not going to say anything._

She eyed him. "You have that look on your face again."

"What look?"

"You know. The Look."

"What _are _you talking about?"

They were back at Mac's place, but Meghan would not let the subject go. "The Look," she repeated. "The one where you almost want to say something, but you refuse to open your mouth. I've memorized it by now."

"And you've only been here a week and a half." The corner of his mouth twitched.

"You're laughing at me."

Hawkes turned away. She spotted it. "You are _totally _laughing at me." With a frown, she opened the door.

Long, dark fingers encircled her wrist easily. "Wait."

Meghan blinked wide eyes at him.

_Oh no, not the puppy dog eyes… _

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad at you."

"But you're mad."

"Leave it alone."

Before he could catch himself, his lips brushed her cheekbone. "Goodnight, Meg."


	7. Going, Going, Gone

_Chapter Seven: Going… Going… Gone_

Someone was humming.

Flack frowned. The humming was coming from the morgue. Was Hawkes humming? That was a first. He carefully put one foot forward, then another, until he reached the door to the morgue and poked his head inside.

The first thing he saw was a petite figure bent over a body, swaying gently from side to side, wearing black sweatpants with the words 'kiss me' in purple letters across her… backside.

He grinned and crept up softly until he was directly behind her, then spun her so she was trapped against a nearby counter by his body. "Don't mind if I do," he said, and lowered his head.

Their lips met with a fiery intensity that nearly drove him to his knees. Waves of ecstasy flowed through his veins as their tongues flirted, mated, danced together. Meghan's midnight-black hair swished around her shoulders and his, providing them with a bit of cover. Her delicate hands were pressed against his chest, feeling the muscles as his heart thundered wildly, erratically. He slid one hand up her arm, over her shoulder, to her neck where he tilted her chin up to grant him better access to his mouth. The other hand grazed bare skin near her waist as it travelled to the warm area of the small of her back, drawing her flush against him.

A faint ringing sound echoed in his ears, distracting him. The fire alarm?

It got louder and louder. Flack squirmed. What the hell? Where did the bedsheets come from?

He opened one eye.

"Aww, hell no…"

-

"Bad night?"

"Terrible. You?"

"Yeah."

And that was the end of _that _conversation.

Flack snagged his cup of coffee- the third one that morning- and staggered out the door, not wanting any unnecessary confrontation with the main subject of his dream at four in the friggin' morning.

As the detective exited, Hawkes entered, and Meghan scowled. "I swear he hates me. Help me fix it."

Simply her companion replied, "Do you care if he hates you?"

A light dawned in her head. "Nope."

Hawkes shrugged. "Problem solved." He rummaged in a cupboard. "Donut?"

"Please."

-

"So, you two are getting pretty chummy, huh?"

Hawkes didn't even glance up. "Am I allowed to answer that without being pummelled?"

"What makes you think I'll pummel you?"

The coroner smirked, not answering. "We're friends," he answered succinctly.

"Mmhmm." Flack stared at him, unconvinced.

"Tell me something. You care… why?" Hawkes exhaled, a bit chagrined. "I thought you two were mortal enemies."

_You took this too far._

"I did, didn't I?" Flack glowered at nothing in particular and left without another word to the other man. "Ahhh, shit."

Watching the receding detective in amusement, Hawkes pursed his lips. "I wonder how soon I'll be hearing about a first date…" he mused.

-

"You wouldn't. _Believe_. What happened to me today. _Damn_." Meghan enunciated the vowel in her last word with a Southern accent, dragging out a laugh from her friend.

"I can take a wild guess" was the wry reply.

"He friggin _asked me out. _What in the holy hell was he _thinking_?! He's an absolute asshole to me for a week and then decides he likes me? What _is _that?"

Hawkes grimaced. _So it didn't go well. _"I'm not sure I want to hear how you responded."

Meghan grinned wickedly.

_She flew off the handle. _

"I laughed in his face."

"That's it?" Hawkes' expression clearly showed he didn't believe her.

"No. Then I told him I didn't date cops- What, I don't!" Meghan defended herself at Hawkes' raised eyebrow, "- and then I told him that even if he wasn't he'd still be a jerk and I wouldn't go out with him if he was the last guy on the Earth."

_It most _definitely _did not go well. _


	8. A Pinch of Sanity

_Lyrics belong to Avril Lavigne- Fall to Pieces._

* * *

_Chapter Eight: A Pinch of Sanity_

_**Wanna know who you are **_

_**Wanna know where to start**_

_**I wanna know what this means**_

_**Wanna know how you feel**_

_**Wanna know what is real**_

_**I wanna know everything… everything**_

_**I don't wanna fall to pieces**_

_**I just wanna sit and stare at you**_

_**I don't wanna talk about it**_

_**I don't want a conversation**_

_**I just wanna cry in front of you**_

_**I don't wanna talk about it**_

_**Cause I'm in love with you**_

_**I'm in love with you…**_

-

Meghan sighed loudly and dramatically. Carelessly she tossed her pen on a table in the break room and stood, shoving the uncomfortable chair behind her with an irritated screech.

"Something on your mind?" A hint of amusement lit Hawkes' dark eyes. He regarded her through thick, black-framed glasses.

"Whyyyy…" she drawled, drawing out the word, "is someone who is so _damn _annoying invading my life? I'm _trying _to work. Jeez."

Hawkes hid a smile. In time… "Meg, I'm not going to dance around the subject. He likes you." He waited for the explosion. When he finally managed to meet his friend's eyes, he had to smother a laugh.

"What the _HELL_?!?"

Hawkes grimaced. Regularly pouty red lips formed a small 'o'; her violet eyes were blazing fire.

She spun on one heel and stormed out without another word, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle windows.

-

Coffee. That's what she needed. Lots and lots of coffee. With sugar. And cream.

And a pinch of sanity.

"I'll definitely need a helluva lot more than that," she mumbled.

"A helluva lot more than what?" Flack asked conversationally, materializing unexpectedly by her side from out of absolutely nowhere. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his open navy blazer, revealing a fitted black t-shirt underneath. The picture of laid-back, he casually leaned against the counter where she concocted her highly caffeinated beverage.

"Go away," she snapped.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Why because?"

"How the _hell _did you become a cop?"

"What, you want me to interrogate you?" Flack pivoted on the balls of his feet so he was now directly behind her, pinning her between his chest and the counter ledge with one hand on either side of her waist. His voice dropped low to a sexy growl.

Meghan's fluttering hands stilled, unable to move as she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine. She stiffened.

"What are… um… What are you… um… doing…"

She squirmed, and Flack's hands flew straight to her hips.

"Don't. Do that again."

Meg spun to face him, her lips mere inches from his. Flack barely held in a groan. She _had _to be doing this on purpose.

_You're killing me here, Meghan…_

"I. Told. You. Not. To. Move." He ground out through gritted teeth before fusing their lips together.

There was that damn sexy growl again… Meghan's mind went blank.

He wasn't going to be patient, that much was clear. Passionate and demanding the kiss screamed "enemies be damned" and nearly drove her to her knees. Too caught up in the unbelievably amazing things he did with his lips and tongue to focus properly, she held herself up by bracing her palms on the counter. Flack's fingertips skirted over her waist and lower back, causing a tug deep in her abdomen and leaving what seemed like scorch marks on her skin.

Finally reality kicked in and she shoved him backwards; cheeks flushed pink, hair mussed, lips still throbbing from the pressure of the kiss. She heaved herself forward. It sure took a lot of concentration just to remain standing- damn balance issues. Meghan balled her hand into a fist and took a swing at his arm, connecting solidly with the muscles of his biceps.

"Good _god_, Flack, what the _hell _were you thinking?!"

"Ow…"

He stuttered lamely, mumbling something incoherent under his breath and stalked out of the empty lab.

Meghan collapsed in a chair, exhaling and inhaling in short bursts. "Yeah… that's right. Run away and leave me in a little puddle on the floor. _Dammit, _Flack!"

-

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Meghan Lindale had just been kissed. Hawkes smiled a little at the storm of a coroner, afraid to even open his mouth. "Uh…"

Meghan glowered angrily at the wall. "You know how I said I was sure he hated me?"

Hawkes nodded silently, straightening from his position over a corpse.

"Well, I changed my mind. I friggin' hate him right back. As far as I'm concerned, the man can go straight to hell," Meg informed him, her voice abrupt.

"He kissed you didn't he?"

She glared at him.

-

"Alright, I forgive you," Meghan grumbled.

Hawkes offered her a french fry smothered in ketchup. "Peace?"

Meghan granted him a tiny smile and grabbed it. "Fine."

He tapped her foot underneath the table. "Good. I made plans for your birthday tomorrow, so you had to let it go sooner or later. You aren't busy, are you?"

"Nah, 'cept for Uncle Mac wants to take me out for supper. I'm free after that, though. S not like I have a hot date or anything," she rolled her eyes, finishing her coke. "That okay with you?"

"I'll make it work," Hawkes replied reluctantly. It took a minute before Meg realized he was kidding. She kicked his shin lightly.

"Very funny."

He grinned. "I try."

-

_**I don't wanna fall to pieces**_

_**I just wanna sit and stare at you**_

_**I don't wanna talk about it**_

_**I don't want a conversation**_

_**I just wanna cry in front of you**_

_**I don't wanna talk about it**_

**_Cause I'm in love with you_**

_**I'm in love with you…**_


	9. Surprise!

**Bah. Between school, badminton, more school, and a part-time job, I've been SO busy. Omyword. Jeesh. Sorry. Hope you guys are still with me!**

_-_**Charlie

* * *

**

_Chapter Nine: SURPRISE!!!!_

Meghan woke to the scent of chocolate chip pancakes wafting down the hall, peeking under the door of the spare bedroom and teasing her out of bed. She stumbled to the kitchen in Care Bear pyjama pants that rode low on her hips and a cropped black t-shirt with a baby chick on it. Mac raised an eyebrow as she thumped in a chair.

"Happy birthday, Meg."

"I'm twenty today," she said brightly. "Hey Uncle Mac, we still on for supper?"

He nodded, setting a plate in front of her. Meghan poured half the bottle of syrup overtop and took a bite. "Yum."

Mac smiled. "I took the liberty of inviting some guests; that okay?"

"The more the merrier." Meg looked up. "Who?"

Mac ticked off fingers as he spoke. "Danny, Aiden, Stella, Hawkes, and Flack."

His niece's face darkened when she heard the last name. "He's not coming."

Mac looked confused. "Why not?"

"Don't ask," she muttered, then her eyes lit up. "That little sneak. He knew all along." Louder, she added, "what are we doing?"

"You'll see later," her uncle replied mysteriously. The confused expression was back on his face. "You lost me. Who's a sneak, and who isn't coming?"

"Flack's not coming and Hawkes was just being Hawkes. Not important." Meghan shrugged it off casually. She finished off the last of her pancakes and licked a drop of syrup off her chin. "Thanks for the pancakes, Uncle Mac." She stood, kissing him on the cheek.

He eyed her warily. "Wait a minute. We're having communication issues here."

"Don't worry. I'll have a good day. I'm not going to let anything ruin it," she promised. "I'm gonna take a shower."

Mac sighed. "That's what happens when you don't touch base often enough."

-

Meghan sailed into work later that day with a smile. "Guess what, Hawkes, I… am coming back later." As soon as she reached the morgue and spotted a dark haired, blue eyed figure next to her friend, a second phrase flowed into the first and she came to a stop, turning to leave.

"No, don't bother." A sarcastic voice replied. "I was just going." Flack brushed by her, ignoring the coroner.

Meghan was silent as he left. "You jerk," she grinned. "You knew all about supper, didn't you?"

Hawkes held up his hands in mock-surrender. "You got me. I did claim you after the party is over, though."

Meghan grinned again. "Mahhhvelous." Hawkes laughed. "So…" she prodded impatiently. "Hint please?"

"Can you rollerblade?"

-

The day passed quickly. Before long Meghan was back at her uncle's apartment, standing in front of her mirror and frowning at it.

Mac knocked on the door. "You ready? They're coming in half an hour."

Meghan's frown deepened, wrinkling her nose. "I know. I'll be ready in time, just give me twenty minutes."

"Okay." The door closed again with a click.

Meg tapped her chin with her forefinger, thinking. She rummaged in her suitcase, opting for casual. Stonewashed, snug jeans with frayed edges and holes repaired by safety pins. A fitted baby blue tank top with a longer spaghetti-strapped one underneath.

Her feet were cold. Meghan grabbed a pair of Indian style moccasins and slipped them on, pulling her hair into a messy bun on the crown on her head, and put on some clear lip gloss, skipping the makeup. Silver hoops dangled from her ears, the largest ones at the bottom and slowly getting smaller as the holes got higher. The only exception was the small heart shaped stud on the top of her left ear.

The doorbell rang, and she emerged from her room with a bright smile for Stella. She had met the older woman on the first day and had easily concluded she was a perfect match for her uncle. She had never said anything, of course, but by the sparkle in Mac's eyes and the answering one in Stella's when Stella walked in, she didn't need to.

"Hey Meg!" Stella handed her a wrapped box. "Here. Happy birthday." The two females hugged.

"Thanks, Stel." Meghan said enthusiastically.

Danny, Aiden, and Hawkes arrived not long later, also with presents, but Hawkes insisted she open hers after the party.

Hesitantly Mac allowed them each a couple of beers, to which Meghan thanked him profusely.

-

Meghan was right, Flack didn't show up.

Mac made a mental note to ask his niece about it later.

-

Five pizzas, three hours, and two six-packs later, they called it a night. It was nearly ten thirty and most of them had to work the next day.

"Happy birthday," Danny and Aiden chorused warmly.

Stella left not long after, and eventually Hawkes, Meghan, and Mac were left alone.

"Be back by twelve" was his only request, and Hawkes pulled her out the door.

-

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can."

Meghan's foot slipped out from under her, and she fell flat on the ground, giggling hysterically. "I really can't."

Hawkes grinned and extended his hand to help her up. Once she had steadied herself, he bladed effortlessly around the rink, showing her how to do it. "It's like skating. Here, try taking steps first."

Meg took a tiny step forward, then another. "I did it!" She grasped his hand tightly to prevent another plunge. "'Kay, I'm gonna do it now." Gradually she let go of his hand and glided slowly forward. The grin spread from ear to ear. "Hey Hawkes…"

He grinned. "What…"

"I'm rollerblading!" she squealed, and promptly fell down again, sending herself into another fit of laughter.

-

"You're great, you know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Meghan dug her spoon into his blizzard. "Thanks."

"Hey, you got your own," Hawkes protested and proceeded to take a spoonful of hers to make it equal.

Her eyes danced at him. "You really are." With her free hand she poked him in the side.

"I almost forgot," he said wryly, even though they both knew he hadn't. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a gift certificate for a local tattoo parlour.

"You didn't."

He grinned. "You like it?"

Meghan's eyes skimmed the paper. "You remember that?"

"Course I remember that. You said you wanted a lizard tattoo on your ankle but 'it costs too damn much'", he mimicked.

She hugged him. "Thank you! Uncle Mac's gonna freak," she laughed. "But that's okay."

"Glad you like it." Hawkes glanced at his watch. "It's almost twelve."

"Yeah, we should go, or you might turn into a pumpkin," Meg quipped. He grinned again.

"Sure."

-

"That was fun."

"Good. That was the idea."

"My ass is gonna be so sore," Meg complained, to which Hawkes laughed.

"It was worth it."

"Aw, hell yeah." She flashed him a grin. "See ya tomorrow, Hawkes."

"Later, Meghan."

Meghan hugged him again. "And thanks for keeping you know who outta my head."

His reply was a smile and a wave. "Bye."


	10. It's Not Over Yet

_Chapter Ten: It's Not Over Yet…_

Meghan sat cross-legged on the couch in her uncle's living room surrounded by presents, a cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table, and a comedy show playing on the tv.

A note from Mac on the table read,

_Meg,_

_I went to Stella's. Be back tomorrow morning. Don't stay up all night. _

_Uncle Mac_

_PS: No boys. _

She had laughed at that.

Her eyes skimmed her gifts. A box of purple hair colour from Aiden, (she had mentioned she was colouring her hair purple one day), a Jim Carrey comedy from Danny, various jewellery from Stella, and a card from her uncle she hadn't opened yet.

Meghan slid her finger in the envelope and pulled out the card. She opened it and three twenty dollar bills fell out. She grinned. The card was filled with writing.

_Meghan,_

_I know what you're thinking. 'Wow, he sure doesn't know much about me'. But that's not why I didn't get you a specific gift. _

_When you first came here, I thought you were an irresponsible teenager. My opinion has greatly changed since then. You are not in any way either of those things. You are a mature, responsible woman, and I am grateful to have such a wonderful niece. _

_Use this money for whatever you please. I know you won't spend it recklessly as you might have done a month ago._

_I'll miss having you around to make my life more interesting. _

_Love you,_

_Mac. _

Meghan grinned. "Love you too." Her eyes sparkled. "Have fun with Stella." She yawned and set the card down, making room to stretch out on the couch.

-

At one a.m., she heard a knock.

-

_**Cause you're everywhere to me**_

_**When I close my eyes it's you I see**_

_**You're everything I know that makes me believe **_

_**I'm not alone**_

_**I'm not alone**_

-

A thousand options came to mind but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

-

Flack stared at her. Dressed in only a pair of tiny black pyjama shorts and a green undershirt, her hair half-pulled back in a ponytail, it was all he could do not to tackle her right there in the doorway, regardless of who might see them. "Here," he mumbled, and thrust a small jewellery box at her.

Wide violet eyes met his in surprise. "Uh… thanks." Meghan's forefinger flicked the box open, she gasped. "It's… beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged embarrassedly. "No big deal."

Meghan studied the necklace intently. Attached to a thin, delicate silver chain was a small green lizard with blue spots. The charm was no bigger than the size of her thumbnail, but when she peered closer at it, the blue spots sparkled. She ran her finger over it.

Before she had time to voice the question in her mind, he answered it for her. "They're sapphires. If you don't like it-" he rushed on, "I can take it back, no trouble, I just heard that you liked lizards and I thought-"

"Can you help me put it on?" she interrupted with a tiny smile.

"Uh, I uh," he stuttered, "Sure."

Meghan held the necklace out to him and turned around, lifting the stray hair off of her neck. Flack fumbled a little upon coming in contact with her warm skin. His fingers skimmed over the nape of her neck as he fastened the clasp at the back, and he dropped his hands immediately after completing his task. She turned around to face him again. "It must have cost a fortune."

"Not… no, not really…" he trailed off. "It was just… no…"

Meghan smiled at his nervousness. It was only then that she spotted the bruise peeking out from the hem of the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn't wearing a jacket.

"Oh no…" she murmured. "Was that me?" Lightly her fingers traced the skin of his arm around the purplish-coloured contusion. "Oh, god, I'm sorry, Flack. I was just… ah, shit." She winced.

Flack captured her wrist with his hand. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Her skin burned. "I still feel bad."

"I said it was okay."

He was still holding her wrist.

Meghan caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Do you, um, want to come in? Uncle Mac went to Stella's. He's gone 'till tomorrow."

It was a tempting offer.

"Nah, I'll uh… I'll pass. I have to work tomorrow." Flack stared at the ground. He was acting like a teenager at the prom for god's sake. "And ya know… we're not exactly on speaking terms anyway…"

"Oh." Disappointment coloured her tone; why, she had no idea, but he heard it. He turned to say goodbye but suddenly her expression became angered. "Why do you do that? What did I ever do to you, anyway?"

Annoyance flowed through him. "What the hell are you talking about? You hate me right back."

"All you've done is treat me like shit ever since I came here," she snapped back.

"Oh, like you haven't done the same?" he asked sarcastically.

"Screw you." She scowled at him.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She slammed the door in his face. Breathing hard, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud knock came only a few seconds later.

Meghan found herself restrained against a wall four seconds later when Flack came storming back in and closed the door behind him. "Screw it," he muttered, and his lips came crashing down on hers. His tongue touched her lips and darted back, then probed at them again. She allowed him to tilt her chin up with one hand, opening her mouth to grant him better access. His other hand snaked around her waist. The thin cotton shirt was lifted up slightly as his fingers glided over the soft skin, up and down her spine.

"God," he grumbled when he finally drew back, "you irritate the hell outta me."

She hummed an affirmative response.

He kissed her again, lingeringly, hotly, fervently. A comfortable warmth spread from the top of his ears to the tips of his toes; a feeling he never wanted to let go of. This was what he had been dying to do for what seemed like forever.

Meghan pulled back. "Ummm…." she shifted slightly, only afterwards realizing her mistake.

"Do you _insist _on torturing me?" he growled angrily following yet another attack on her lips. His hands had quickly moved to her hips, holding them still in his strong hands. She was slowly sinking to the floor, mute with shock.

In a great effort, she straightened and slid her hands up underneath his shirt, feeling the defined muscles of his stomach and chest. Flack groaned. A quick glance around and he half-carried, half dragged her over to the empty couch.

PS: Lyrics are from Michelle Branch's 'Everywhere'.


End file.
